G'morning
by Winged Cherry
Summary: Chelsea wakes Vaughn up in the early morning with a remarkable request. One-shot, Chelsea x Vaughn, third person perspective.


Fast asleep and snoring he lay in the comfortable bed at the inn. It was Thursday, only six o'clock in the morning when someone knocked on his door persistently. Grumbling, he buried his head underneath his pillow, but whoever was standing in front of his door was too determined to leave. After five minutes, he gave up and slipped out of bed to drag himself to the door and open it. Sleepy and a tad grumpy, he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. His hair was a silvery mess and for some reason he wasn't wearing his pajama jacket.

"Good morning, Sunshine!" the brunette beamed brightly. He had always assumed it was scientifically impossible to smile at all, leave alone like that, as early in the morning as it was. Vaughn missed her light pink flushed cheeks and her blue eyes that quickly eyed his bare torso.

"Uh… yeah… g'morning…" he groaned, "What do you need from me?"

"Um, well, you see, it'll be winter soon and then I can't grow crops anymore and I do need the money, so I wanted to build a chicken-coop and…" Chelsea tried to rapidly explain, but Vaughn interrupted her.

"Just get to the point already."

"I need you to teach me how to chop wood." He raised an eyebrow.

"You and I both know you've got the muscles too," Chelsea added with a sly smirk.

"Can't you ask Taro or something?" he questioned, ignoring the last comment.

"Says he's too old to be chopping wood."

"Gannon?" He tried.

"He hurt his back on the job yesterday." He scratched the back of his head.

"Have you already asked Elliot?"

"Does it look like he can lift an axe to you?" He sighed.

"Just lemme get dressed." he plainly replied and shut the door.

* * *

"Adopt a wide stance and hold the axe well. Don't overstrain yourself by trying to beat the crap out of that little piece of wood," she giggled and he continued, "This thing is made to increase your power and don't forget you've got gravity on your side as well." She nodded at each sentence while he explained.

"Holding the axe tightly is very important. This isn't something you want to drop accidentally on your feet." He gestured to the axe he was holding and she nodded again, although she meant the opposite of what her body language was saying

"Now try it for yourself." He handed her the heavy axe he'd been holding and held onto it a little longer than required, to be certain she held it tightly. She took her stance and raised the axe.

"Feet a little further apart and try to hold it more like this…" he commented while he adjusted her pose from behind. Today's second blush soon appeared while she noticed how warm his hands were.

"So it's more like this?" she questioned. He nodded contently.

"Now give it a shot." She stuck out the tip of her tongue in concentration and swung the axe down on the branch. The axe sunk in half-way smoothly. Vaughn crossed his arms and nodded again, this time approvingly.

"Now pull your axe lose and swing again," he coached her.

They spent nearly all day together chopping wood. Whenever Chelsea got tired Vaughn took over, until she got fed up with resting. At the end of the day they counted the wood they'd gathered and Chelsea jumped into Vaughn's arms when he announced they had enough for a nice chicken-coop and incubator. Vaughn's cheeks flushed pink this time too, as he dumb-founded patted the small brunette on her head.

The next day Chelsea visited Gannon, the local carpenter, to place her order. He promised her that if he started building the coop the day after, he would be finished by Tuesday. She didn't want an incubator yet, because she had to safe up money for a chicken first.

* * *

Wednesday morning, just when she was baking herself a pancake, someone knocked on her door. Only three discrete knocks. Chelsea turned the gas lower to prevent her breakfast from burning to ashes and sped to the door, but when she opened it, no one was there anymore. Only when she was about to close the door to return to her breakfast, she noticed the shoe-box sized box on her doormat. She got on her knees to open the box, without paying much attention to note taped on top, and squealed with pure delight when she saw its content. Sitting on the bottom of the box sat a small yellow fluffy ball that chirped softly. She took it out of the box and held it to her chest with one hand to turn over the lid of the box and read the note. It was short and it was written by someone with bad handwriting. All the note said was:

"_Good morning, Sunshine."_

Right then she knew what she would call the little yellow bird.

* * *

_When my mom woke me up this morning with a 'Good morning, Sunshine!', I wondered who on earth still wakes people up like that.  
Brighten my day and leave a review on my doormat!_


End file.
